Token of Wisdom
by Emberrion
Summary: "There was once a time when you were just as likely to be friends with a Slytherin as you were a Gryffindor; when House stereotypes did not define who you were. I wish to see that day come again." The Sorting Hat imparts a small bit of wisdom upon a warrior many years after the Battle of Hogwarts.


**Token of Wisdom**

 _by Kem'Ajiana_

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Summary: _"There was once a time when you were just as likely to be friends with a Slytherin as you were a Gryffindor; when House stereotypes did not define who you were. I wish to see that day come again." The Sorting Hat imparts a small bit of wisdom upon a warrior many years after the Battle of Hogwarts._

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A/n: Short story with a moral.

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"I think most of us are raised with preconceived notions of the choices we're supposed to make. We waste so much time making decisions based on someone else's idea of our happiness... Nobody says, 'Just be happy - go be a cobbler or go live with goats."

\- Sandra Bullock

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Charlotte's footsteps echoed as she made her way up the stairs of the statue-guarded stairwell, straightening her Slytherin-green tie and adjusting her robes as she prepared to meet with the Headmistress, Minerva McGonagall. Her Transfiguration class had run over, and she'd had to assist two third years in a particularly tricky spell, and she was late. Charlie would be waiting for her for tea, and she'd have to apologize for not showing up - a rare occurance; she loved tea-day with Charlie Weasley.

She knocked once on the oak door, listening for any sound. When she heard nothing, she turned the handle and peeked into the domed room, calling out for her Headmistress. " _Madam_ McGonagall? It's Professor Dubois. You called for me?"

She stepped into the cavernous room, taking in the cluttered - yet organized - desk, which was filled with parchment upon parchment, ink wells, and a precariously stacked tower of books at the edge. Her wand was on her desk, as well, but Minerva was nowhere to be seen.

"You look familiar, girl," came a gruff voice from behind her. "Minerva stepped out; she'll be back soon enough."

She spun on her heel, turning to face the wall of hanging portraits that stared down at her curiously. One in particular seemed oddly interested, and that was the portrait of a man in black robes, inky black hair, and equally dark eyes. "You're Headmaster Snape."

"It seems," the portrait drawled, "there is some...intelligence in your empty head, after all."

She lifted an elegant, garnet brow. "Empty? Seems it wasn't so empty to see me through the war. Unlike some."

"Hn..." He regarded her more closely, down the sharp hook of his nose. "Tell me, girl. How is it you've come to be Slytherin's Head of House if...I've never seen you before now."

His slow, scornful drawl pickled her skin with irritation, and she narrowed her eyes at him - one just slightly more brown than the other - and she crossed her arms over her chest. "Because I volunteered."

"And where," he sneered, "did they drag you up from? Surely, I would know of your...existence, if you are of any importance."

"I come from America -"

He scoffed, turning away from her in disdain. "- ah yes. The cowards who decided not to fight. Pity...still, you show some spine."

She hummed, eyes sparking with irritability. "I did fight, actually. Of course, you were nowhere to be seen. Surely on your way to die."

Snape stood then, disappearing from his portrait in a flourish of black robes, and she watched him go without remorse. Nasty man, he was - even still. Three years had made no difference to the man.

"Don't mind him; he's always been like that. Even as a child. I still question that Potter boy's decision to have his portrait installed."

To her right, she smiled at the tattered, slightly crisp form of the Sorting Hat. "Hello. I don't think we've ever properly met."

"Ah, yes. Ms. Dubois. From Ilvermorny. You're Slytherin's new Head of House."

"Yes. That is correct."

"Well done, that," it hummed appreciatively.

She furrowed her brows, running her slim fingers across the slightly dusty bookshelves it sat upon with regal authority. "What do you mean by that, _monsieur_?"

He watched her closely for many seconds. "Many still regard Slytherin House as one of evil and prejudice. You are brave to bear the brunt of that disdain."

"I suppose, yes. But it was not done of bravery, but compassion," she corrected softly.

"Compassion..." he murmured to himself. "a trait commonly buried beneath hard exteriors."

"I find many of my students carry that trait, actually," she defended quickly.

"Yes. Yes. Slytherins have a great capacity for such a trait. It is often drowned out by preconceived notions of how they are meant to be. It is almost funny how alike Hufflepuff they are." It regarded her coolly for a long moment, it's hollow eyes almost piercing her very soul. "Was Ilvermorny so different from Hogwarts that you did not believe one House to be superior to the other?"

Charlotte shook her head wildly. "Oh, no," she smiled. "We were a very inclusive school - truly only separated by year. While we had different dormitories, we did everything together; our Headmaster practically commanded it so. While we each had different talents, what House we chose was ultimately up to us in the end. In fact, my best friend was a Pukwudgie."

The Sorting Hat hummed to itself in thought, eyes narrowed. "Tell me, into which House, here, would you sort yourself?"

She laughed lightly, taking him from the shelf and holding it daintily in her small hands. "I was a Horned Serpent - House of Scholars. I presume to think -"

"- no, girl. Where would you put yourself _now_."

Charlotte was lost for a moment. "I suppose...Ravenclaw? Or Gryffindor. Perhaps Hufflepuff, with my brother..." she trailed off, thinking hard, her lips pursed together. "I...cannot say I know the answer to this riddle, _monsieur._ "

"Would you like to find out?"

Eyebrows shot high into her hair, her mouth opening with a small _pop_ of wet lips. "I...well, yes. If you do not mind, of course."

"I would not ask if I believed it would put me out. Place me on your head; let's have a look inside."

She did as she was bid, the old material sliding past her eyes and covering her ears, and she felt the hat come alive in her head. It was like Legilems - it sifting through her thoughts as she sat there.

 _Curious thing, your head._ It spoke suddenly.

"Is it?"

 _I can see your bravery - how you would readily die for your friends and family. And loyalty. Yes. So much loyalty. A thirst for knowledge, as well, I see. How interesting indeed. You truly are a Horned Serpent._

"I told -"

 _But there's something here that defines who you are. Neither ambition or cunning, but something that drives your very heart and mind._ Her breath stilled in her chest as her brows furrowed together, chewing daintily on her lip.

 _I see no thirst for power, but an unquenchable drive to to prove yourself. Your_ _loyalties are placed wisely, and while you would easily greet death for those you love, I see you would also not hesitate to kill for them. You have killed for them._ It hummed around her head in thought. _You thirst for knowledge, yet you do not look down upon those that do not see the benefits of it. You are eager, compassionate, brave, and so very selective in your endeavors, it would be impossible to place you anywhere else. You, my child, are most definitely a Slytherin._

"But, I -"

\- _fail to be what a Slytherin is meant to embody?_ "

"Well...yes," she whispered, pulling the hat from her head.

It regarded her with empty eyes. "You do not. In fact, you embody the very things they hold most dear. Loyalty, compassion...these are all traits you will not find by looking at the tie they wear. The tie _you_ wear, Head of House."

There was a long, drawn out silence as Charlotte sat heavily upon a high-backed chair. "I don't understand, _monsieur._ I am more Ravenclaw than Slytherin, am I not?"

An invisible brow lifted as it watched here. "What is there not to understand?"

"If I prize knowledge above all else -"

"- but you do not. Not in the way it matters," the hat interrupted. "You prize _family_." He sighed. "You place their well-being above all else - I've seen your head. The things you've done to protect them."

She flinched under his scrutinous glare. "I -"

"- did what needed to be done. You saved lives, even if it meant taking them, too. Among other things."

"And what of my lack of ambition? My failure to hold up to the standards of a true Pureblood?" she bit out. "What of those things?"

"Ambition is what you make of it," he murmured. "Your desire to protect your loved ones drove you. It was not done out of obligation, the things you did. And ask most Slytherins what they believe of the Pureblood rhetoric; ask your darling _Charles Weasley_ what he thinks of it."

She looked thoughtful a moment. "Charlie was not a Slytherin."

"By your logic, being a Pureblood, he should have been." Charlotte plucked at her lips in agitation. "Why do you fear being a Slytherin?"

"I suppose...it is more the idea that the darkest of our community came from that House. My House," she whispered. "I've seen how Gryffindor jabs at them, or Ravenclaw sneers at them as they walk by...even Hufflepuffs. They are feared. My first years are hissed at by their peers as they walk by for wearing a green tie. It makes them..." she fought for a description.

" _Cold?_ " the hat supplied. "Distant? Wary?"

She blinked. "Yes."

With a heavy sigh, the hat smiled softly at her. "There was once a time, a long while before the First Wizarding War, when it was not odd to find a Gryffindor and a Slytherin sneaking about the castle to get into trouble; or a Ravenclaw stealing away a Hufflepuff for a late night study session in the kitchens."

"What happened? What changed?"

"Purebloods happened. That accursed book about the Sacred 28 was published, and many - surprisingly lead by families that mostly found themselves sorted into Ravenclaw - wished to keep their blood as pure as possible. As if it made them any more powerful than the others. More important. More perfect.

"Their ideals rubbed off on their children, who oftentimes found themselves sorted into Slytherin for their ambition to uphold their family standards. I confess, I am largely a part of the reason Slytherin House has faced it's downfall. Its...segregation. It is a shame I find myself unable to correct, so long as the ambition remains a primary thought in the heads of many."

Charlotte stroked the brim of the hand kindly. "I wish it were not so, either."

"Those were innocent days. When you were just as likely to be friends with a Slytherin as you were a Gryffindor; when House stereotypes did not define who you were. I wish to see that day come again."

The sound of a creaking door startled Charlotte from her seat, and she stood bolt upright as Minerva regarded her over her spectacles. "I sometimes believe, as I told Albus, that we sort too early."

She strode over, taking the hat from her teacher's hands and restoring it back to its shelf. "I, too, would like there to be change, Ms. Dubois. It is largely the reason I granted you your wish to be Head of Slytherin House. I am glad to see we share similar ideals."

"Yes, Headmistress." Charlotte dusted her hands on her robes, following the elder woman to her desk, where she pulled a roll of parchment from her drawer. "You wished to see me, _Madam_?"

Minerva smiled, handing her the roll of parchment. "Yes. I merely wished to tell you that your request to teach animagus forms has been granted. Best to do it safely, than have teenage boys running about as rats, is it not?"

With a dazzling smile, Charlotte took the parchment, tucking iit into her pocket. "Ah, yes. Thank you, Headmistress. Is that all? I'm afraid I'm awfully late for something."

McGonagall shook her head, sitting at her desk. "No, that is all. You may go." Charlotte nodded her head, and turned to leave. As she stepped past the oak doors she heard McGonagall call out, "Oh, and Ms. Dubois, tell Charlie hello for me. I do not get to see him often enough, holed away in Hagrid's hut. Care of Magical Creatures professor he maybe, but he should make more appearances in the dining hall."

Charlotte laughed. "I will pass it along, Headmistress."


End file.
